


church (i couldn't see heaven's light until i saw you)

by sugarexe (SovereignSugar)



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: (in later chapters), Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Eddie is not married to Myra, F/F, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Lesbian Beverly Marsh, M/M, Meet-Cute, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Rating May Change, References to Social Media, Religious Themes, Richie lives with his grandparents, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, but they're 17 in the beginning so, he's also kind of well off in this fanfic just saying?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-21 01:12:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15546327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SovereignSugar/pseuds/sugarexe
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is a devoutly religious high school student. He goes to church every Wednesday and Sunday, he volunteers regularly, and he participates in his school's prayer group. He prays daily that he can find the patience and self-restraint to settle with a nice girl - if only to please his mother. Eddie believes that he can do so. Until he meets the new preacher's grandson, Richie Tozier.Updates every other Friday!





	1. eddie's boring love life (gossip doesn't make very good date conversation)

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone!!! I am BACK with another fanfiction and this time it is... multi-chaptered ;)  
> I was very hesitant about posting before I finished writing this - ESPECIALLY with the fact that I'm starting college very soon - but I thought that I might be able to find time to finish it with a weekly update schedule! and I am just SO EXCITED to post! I've been working on this for a while now!!
> 
> I wanted to mention that there will be NO religion bashing, despite the close-minded religious characters. I'm not very religious myself, but I've always found religion to be super interesting. I want to portray the different ways that LGBT people experience religion, and the characters from It are just so fun to play around with.
> 
> As a caveat, I tried to keep all of the characters in-character to the best of my abilities. They're not too outlandishly OOC in my opinion - and the thing about great story-telling is character growth. So if Eddie seems a little less like himself, it's intentional. He'll grow into himself by the end, I promise.
> 
> anywho I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

Eddie has been going to church for as long as he can remember and even longer before that. He considers himself to be a pretty devout Christian; he goes to church every Wednesday and Sunday, he volunteers wherever he can, and he participates in the prayer group at his school. He's been baptized, and he's been saved. His mother taught him to pray before every meal and before he lays his head against his pillow every night.

She tells him that it's a blessing he's even survived for as long as he has with how weak his body is. He’s been in and out of hospitals about as many times he's been to Sunday school if the stack of Biblical word search pamphlets from the hospital gift shop is any indication. Sonia Kaspbrak will tell anyone that Eddie is a miracle of nature, singing God's high praises and insisting that he's been saved by prayer. Eddie has never questioned this. He doesn't like to be as overbearing as his mother about it, though. He feels like he'd rather keep his relationship with God between _him_ and _God_. He doesn't tell his mother what he prays about at night, nor does he tell his youth pastor, Pastor Reilly. He doesn't go to them for guidance because he's afraid of their condemnation.

He prays for his "illnesses" to leave his body, but it's not in the way his mother thinks. He prays that he can keep himself from staring too long at his friend's Adam's apple when he speaks. He prays for the visions of large, warm hands pressing against his body to disappear. He prays that he'll finally meet a girl that puts his fantasies to rest, even though the thought of having a girlfriend makes Eddie nauseous.

Despite the overwhelming nausea, Eddie agrees to the blind dates his mother likes to set him up on. He's always polite to the girls, and he thinks they're all really swell. In fact, he's still good friends with a few of them. But they never make his heart beat erratically. They never tie his stomach in knots. They never make his face grow hot. Eddie finds himself feeling bored with his love life. He forces himself to go through with the dates, though, hoping that he could settle into a relationship that would satisfy his mother. It would be better for everyone if he would just _settle_.

He tells himself this as he sits across from his mother's latest pick ( _Myra_ , he reminds himself) at the drugstore. Myra is cute, he supposes. She's not a bad person, from what he can tell, but he feels... hesitant about her. He recognizes his mother in the way Myra gently ribs him about "having too much sugar" when he orders a milkshake or the way she fusses over the essay he says he's procrastinated. It makes him recoil away from her. He spends most of their date watching the soda jerk while Myra carries on a nearly one-sided conversation.

"Edward, did you hear that Pastor Stephens is leaving soon?" Myra asks, and he hums in false interest. He tries to ignore the way she calls him by his full first name – he _hates_ when people do that. Myra takes his silence as a cue to continue.

"He's going away for a year-long mission in South America. There's been talk about another preacher stepping into his position. I've heard he's got a grandson our age, but Janice says that he's bad news – a real closet case," she gossips.

Eddie tears his eyes away from the cute guy behind the counter. He furrows his eyebrows at this information. He doesn't usually participate in gossip, but he hadn't heard anything about a new boy joining their congregation. Pastor Reilly usually informs them of such news – he always knows beforehand because there's a sign-up for their youth program.

"Is he … joining the youth program?" Eddie asks, taking a sip of his milkshake to make himself seem less affected. Myra shakes her head and leans over the table, her voice dropping to just above a whisper.

"Well, this is all hearsay, but _Linda_ told me that the grandson isn't all that religious. He's supposedly got a reputation for being a rebel. I think we ought to stay away from him, don't you?" Myra relays. She seems a little too excited to share this information. Her tone reminds Eddie of his mother's - judgmental and scandalized.

"We haven't even met him yet. It's unfair to judge him based on rumors," Eddie mumbles as he sloshes his milkshake around with his straw. Unlike Myra and his mother, he doesn't like to judge people based on petty chatter. It always makes him think of Beverly Marsh. His mother always warned him to stay away from her... she would call her dirty and immoral – a _whore_. He never really went out of his way to talk to Beverly because of it, but he started seeing her more often when he started volunteering at the animal shelter. Apparently, she was close friends with one of the workers on the payroll there – Mike Hanlon. He was wary of her at first, but after becoming more acquainted with her, Eddie knows that all the things his mother said are false. He's quite fond of her now; he considers her his best friend, much to his mother's chagrin.

Myra has the decency to flush at his statement. Eddie doesn't think rosy cheeks suit her.

"Ah, I suppose you're right, Edward. It's not godly to judge others," She sputters uncomfortably, and Eddie wonders if she actually believes that. He has the feeling that she's only regurgitating phrases that she's heard in sermons to cover her own blunder. He only hums in response, and the rest of their... date... is tense. Eddie goes back to discreetly watching the clerk, and Myra steers clear from gossiping.

Eddie walks Myra home, and she plants a goodbye kiss on his cheek. He waits until she's inside her house to rub the kiss away, a look of mild disgust on his face. When his mother asks how the date went, he gives her an unenthused answer.

"It went okay, ma," he mutters as he leans down to kiss her in greeting. She gives him a pitying smile.

"Oh, Eddiebear. I know there aren't any ladies that can measure up to your mother, but Myra is close – " (Eddie thinks that's an understatement.) " – I'm sure you'll warm up to her the more you go out!"

"Uh, sure, ma," Eddie answers meekly, staring at the cross on the wall to avoid prolonged eye contact. He feels uncomfortable with her implications. He loves his mom, sure, but he really doesn't find the idea of _dating_ someone like her very appealing. He keeps it to himself, though. She gets upset easily, and Eddie would rather retreat to his room than sit through her guilt-tripping.

Eddie forgets about the new preacher and his mysterious grandson for a while. His weeks are filled with church services, boring “dates” with Myra, and as much volunteer work that Eddie can sign up for without compromising his grades. He tries to fill up his time, so he can have excuses not to see Myra every day – she’s turning out to be very clingy and being busy makes it far easier to reject any plans she tries to create. Eddie finds that he’s not too pressed over the fact that he’s at the animal shelter during much of what should be his free time, though. Beverly comes in far more often to see both Eddie and Mike, and sometimes their other friend, Stan, will tag along. Eddie finds Stan interesting, and more so when he asked if they had rescued any birds lately. It makes Eddie feel better – to be making more close friends. He isn’t a loner, per se, he just hasn’t had a huge friend group before.

A month passes by in the blink of an eye. The congregation at Eddie's church holds a luncheon for Pastor Stephens after the last Sunday service before he leaves.

The large dining room of the church has been decorated for the occasion. The decorations are meager, with homemade banners wishing Pastor Stephens a safe trip and posters with Bible verses in a neat script. The youth group had been tasked with creating them, and it showed; they bear a remarkable resemblance to the posters the student council hangs in the school: covered in far too much glitter and cheap-looking. He had to read the quotes out so many times while Linda Cleary painted them on the cardstock posters that he can recite them word for word from memory. There are floral centerpieces on every table – courtesy of a floral shop that someone in the congregation runs, Eddie guesses.

Everyone is dressed in their Sunday best (having all just come from a sermon not too long ago), and Eddie can smell the perfume and aftershave lingering in the air as he passes some of the tables. Myra takes a seat next to him, which Eddie isn't very fond of, but she's too busy talking to Janice Spalding to say anything to him. The fact that her attention is being monopolized by her friend fills Eddie with relief, even though he’s stuck listening to their gossip and uproarious giggles.

A few minutes later, he watches Pastor Reilly step up to the podium to do the introductions. Eddie tunes him out by trying to figure out what kinds of flowers they used in the centerpieces. His fingers fidget with the luncheon itinerary that someone had passed to him when he entered the room; it's slightly damp from the sweat on his palms – the AC never seems to work in this church – and the creases are beginning to crumble from his constant folding and unfolding of it. He can hear Myra’s soft whispering next to him, and he sighs, leaning his cheek against his hand. He isn't even listening to Pastor Reilly, but he still finds their incessant chatter both rude and annoying.

“...Without further ado, here is the man of the hour himself. Come on up, Dennis.”

The cheering from the crowd draws Eddie's attention to the front, and he claps along unenthusiastically. Pastor Stephens and Pastor Reilly share a brotherly embrace before Pastor Stephens takes his place behind the podium.

“Thank you, Jason! It's lovely to preach to you all again before lunch! ... Even though I released you from sermon not too long ago!”

Pastor Stephens pauses as people around them laugh. His grin is large and boyish, and Eddie can tell it's genuine.

“I promise not to keep you long. I can see your hunger across the room, Mrs. Meredith, and I know not to keep you waiting.” Eddie can see an old lady wave her fan flippantly from the front of the room, and he hears what he assumes is a wisecrack even though he doesn't process it quite clearly. He guesses she said something like, “ _I'm not getting any younger, Dennis_ ,” because Pastor Stephens lets out a small laugh and says, “Well you don't look a day over fifty to me, so I'll continue.”

“As you all know, I will be leaving for a year-long mission tomorrow morning. I feel so blessed to have such a lovely congregation, and I feel a bit sad to leave you all for so long; my wife actually had to force me to finish packing yesterday,” he stops for a moment to laugh, and there's scattered applause around the room.

“I would hate to leave you all without someone to preach to you every Sunday, so after some thinking I have invited my good friend, Father Raymond Tozier, to step into my place. Let's take a moment to welcome him!”

Pastor Stephens gestures toward his step-in to stand, and everyone claps for him as he waves. Eddie is unable to see him clearly from his seat, but he knows he's seen the man at least a few times in the past month. He hasn't ever spoken to him before, though.

“Thank you so much, Raymond. I feel relieved to leave my congregation in your capable hands. Now, let us say grace so you fine folk can eat, huh?” Pastor Stephens says enthusiastically. The crowd agrees happily, and they all bow their heads as he leads them in prayer.

As soon as there is a unanimous “Amen”, the dining hall explodes into chatter. People bustle over to the buffet, with the elderly and small children being served first. Eddie takes his place near the end of the line, Myra’s arm tucked under his. The feeling makes him chew the inside of his cheek huffily, but she doesn't seem to notice, nor does she seem to care. He's thankful when they finally get up to the buffet and she detaches herself from his person to serve herself. Eddie ends up fixing two plates: one for himself and one for his mother. He can see that she's enthralled by some conversation, still parked in her seat at their table, so he figures that she expects him to get her food for her.

The chatter grows quieter as everyone settles back into their seats to eat. The lights dim when there's only a small trickle of people left at the buffet. A slideshow pulled together by the church's pseudo-tech team plays on the projector screen behind the podium. Photos from church events that had taken place that summer flicker on and off the screen, all while poppy Christian music plays through the speakers on the walls. Eddie lulls off again, picking at his food in boredom. Sometimes he loathes coming to church on Sundays – not because he doesn't like coming to church, but because he would rather have the time to himself. Today is one of those days.

He had considered feigning an illness this morning to get out of coming to service, but he knew his mother would have dragged him to the hospital instead. He found spending the day at the hospital even less appealing than coming to church. All he wants to do now is crawl into bed and read comics, but instead, he’s stuck at this luncheon in his stuffy church clothes.

He pushes his plate away when he decides he's done playing with his mashed potatoes. Eddie isn't really in the mood to eat anything savory, so he excuses himself to get dessert. He ignores the way Sonia scans his unfinished plate with a disapproving glance, and he walks away before she has the chance to say anything about it.

" _I'd like to apologize for my grandson's absence, Dennis_ ," Eddie overhears Pastor Tozier say as he makes his way to the buffet, " _I wanted you to meet him before you leave, but Richie is quite the handful lately. He claimed that he had prior plans._ "

The pastors are standing next to the drink table, solo cups in hand. Pastor Stephens claps Pastor Tozier on his back with his free hand in what Eddie assumes is a reassuring manner.

" _It's alright, Raymond. I'm sure he'll find his way. Most teenagers go through a rebellious phase, but they always come back to God._ "

Eddie's interest is piqued. Pastor Tozier and Pastor Stephens must have talked about Richie prior to the luncheon. He shuffles over to the desserts, trying to listen surreptitiously. He absentmindedly piles brownies onto a plate. He sees Pastor Tozier nod out of the corner of his eye.

" _You're right. I'm sure he won't stray too far before he comes charging back. We just have to steer him in the right direction._ "

This puzzles Eddie. He wonders what path Richie had strayed down. Surely, he wasn't doing anything _too_ terrible if they were hopeful for his repentance so soon?

" _Well, if you're looking for a good influence, you can look no further than the dessert table_ \- " Eddie stiffens " – _Edward over there is our most devout youth member. Edward, come over and meet Pastor Tozier!_ "

Eddie can feel his soul leave his body momentarily. He turns to see Pastor Stephens beckoning him over. Eddie walks over, his movements stilted. He tries to make it seem like he hadn't just been eavesdropping.

"Raymond, this is Edward Kaspbrak," Pastor Stephens directs them to shake hands. Pastor Tozier's hand is large and warm, his grip firm. Eddie's mom always says that a person can tell how trustworthy a man is by his handshake, and he feels like Pastor Tozier fits her criteria.

Eddie takes a moment to examine him. He is a very tall and bright man; his laughter lines are prominent from years of grinning, and his eyes are kind. His voice is a smooth baritone ( _Eddie is sure that he has an exceptionally beautiful singing voice_ ). Eddie finds him handsome, despite his age, and he feels his cheeks filling with warmth.

"Pleased to meet you, Edward," Pastor Tozier says warmly, "The boy's got quite the sweet tooth, huh?"

Pastor Tozier laughs and nudges Pastor Stephens. Eddie glances at his plate and feels mortified. There are too many sweets, even for his own taste. He hadn't even realized.

"Yes, indeed. I've noticed. He's been that way since childhood," Pastor Stephens says. He looks amused. "Edward, it's okay to eat sweets, but you shouldn't indulge too much. Gluttony is wasteful, no?"

Eddie nods quickly.

"Right, no worries. This isn't all for me," he says as he rubs the back of his neck, "I grabbed some dessert for Myra, too. I didn't want to waste plates if there's no need to."

"Oh, how thoughtful," Pastor Stephens says, and they both look appeased. As much as Eddie hates lying, he doesn't want to be considered a busybody.

"Eddie, you're seventeen, aren't you? You just started your junior year?" Pastor Stephens asks. Eddie looks between them and nods.

"Yes, Father, I am," He confirms. Pastor Stephens nods and tuts about how he knew that.

"Right, of course. Well, Pastor Tozier has a grandson in your grade," Pastor Stephens explains. Eddie tilts his head and waits for him to continue. Pastor Tozier pipes in instead.

"I can tell you have a good head on your shoulders, already, Edward. Do you mind befriending my grandson? I'm hoping that you might be a good influence on him."

Eddie purses his lips. He doesn't know how easy that would be – he can't force the guy to be his friend or anything. He does hang out with a bunch of secular people at school (without the knowledge of his mother, of course), but he doesn't know how receptive Richie would be to his friendship.

"I'll try my best," He promises uncertainly, and they both thank him graciously. Eddie thinks about his promise all that night, wondering if he would even meet Richie soon. If not at church, maybe he would see him at school?

He doesn't have to wait long to finally put a face to the name.

As he arrives at school the next morning, he sees Beverly smoking outside with a guy he's never met before. Beverly beckons him over.

"Eddie! See, Richie, this is the one I was talking about," Bev gestures to him. Eddie blanches at the realization that the guy is Richie Tozier. They were... talking about Eddie? The thought makes his heart skip.

He takes a moment to inspect him. Eddie doesn't know what he expected, but he knows he didn't expect him to look like this.

He's certainly handsome, with strong cheekbones and a jawline that looks like it was carved by God’s own hands. But he also looks like he hasn't slept in days – his eyes are dark behind his glasses, his skin is too pale, his unruly curls give Eddie the impression that he hadn't taken the time to style his hair. He has a cigarette dangling from his lips. Eddie's eyes trail downwards, past his Adam's apple and prominent collar bones.

His outfit is... tacky, to say the least; he's wearing an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt with some random band tee underneath it and a pair of black chino shorts. His shoes have a loud pattern on them – they look new. For some reason, the look is stylish on him. (Maybe it’s the way he wears it all?) Eddie brings his eyes back up to Richie's face, and he's surprised to see him smirking, almost as if he knows that Eddie had been checking him out.

"This is the almighty Edward, then?" Richie asks. He drops his cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out with his shoe.

"Heard a lot about you from my granddad. I'll admit, the way he described you, I didn't expect you to look..." Richie's eyes trail down, lingering on Eddie's gym shorts in a way that makes him feel overexposed, "...like this... Nice fanny pack, by the way."

Richie's eyes flit back up to his, and he offers his hand. Eddie hesitantly shakes it. Richie's fingers are much longer than his own. His hands are surprisingly cold.

"Nice to meet ya, Eddie Spaghetti," Richie says cheerfully. Eddie makes a face at the stupid nickname.

"Please don't call me that," he mumbles and retracts his hand.

"Oh, sorry, _Edward Spaghedward_. I should've known you would prefer your Baptismal name," Richie says, and his tone rubs Eddie the wrong way. _What is that supposed to mean?_

"I'm not a Catholic. I don't have a Baptismal name," Eddie shoots back, "Just 'Eddie,' thanks."

"Oh, got it. Eddie Spaghetti, it is then!" Richie grins. Eddie glances to Beverly in disbelief. She's watching them with a thoughtful look on her face.

“Eddie, I was telling Richie that you could probably show him around. You're the most reliable person I know,” Beverly says. Eddie considers this for a moment. He was going to attend the prayer meeting, but it probably wouldn't kill him to miss one. Especially if he's doing something nice for someone else. He did promise Pastor Tozier that he would try to befriend Richie.

“Sure, I don't mind,” He answers. Richie grins.

“I have to say, with a tour guide as cute as you, I'll have trouble focusing on the school,” he purrs, “Why don't you just show me somewhere we can get to know each other better instead, sweetheart?”

Eddie feels his heart speed up. Richie is… flirting? With him? He hasn't ever had a guy look at him this way before. Or, he's never had one look at him like this outside of his wildest fantasies. He tries to speak but his mouth is dry.

“What are you trying to do, Rich? Scare him?” Beverly slaps his chest with the back of her hand, “He has a girlfriend, anyway.”

“ _Girlfriend_?” Eddie asks in confusion. This was the first he had heard of her. Beverly’s eyebrows furrow.

“I thought you were going steady with Myra?”

Eddie shakes his head. He goes on dates with her to get his mother off his back, sure, but that didn't mean he's committed to her.

“Hardly,” he mutters, “I don't even know if I like her as a friend.”

Beverly laughs at this.

“Okay, yeah. I can understand that. Maybe you should make that clear to her, though. She's been telling everyone that you're both serious,” she says, and she takes a drag from her cigarette. Eddie flinches. The look on his face must be funny because Richie snickers.

Eddie only purses his lips at him.

"Right, well, I guess I'll handle that at some point," He grumbles unhappily.

"Is it so bad to let the bird think she's your girlfriend, Eds?" Richie asks. There's a playful smirk on his lips that Eddie finds infuriating.

"You only say that because you don't know her," Eddie shoots back. "...And don't call me Eds."

He crosses his arms, and Richie raises his eyebrows in amusement.

"Right, well, you guys better get going if Eddie is going to show you around," Beverly says, her eyes on her phone. Eddie checks his watch. They have about twenty minutes before the first bell.

"You're right. C'mon then. See you later, Bevvie!" Eddie says before turning and walking in the direction of the front entrance. He hears Richie bid Beverly farewell before jogging to catch up with him.  
(“ _Bevvie, huh?_ ”  
“ _Fuck off! Eddie is the only one allowed to call me that so don't get any ideas._ ”)

"So, Eds... tell me about yourself," Richie says as he falls into step beside him. He gestures toward Eddie vaguely.

"Aren't I supposed to be showing you around?" Eddie asks, eyebrows furrowed. He makes his own sweeping gesture toward the school. Richie pantomimes writing something down, and Eddie watches in confusion.

"Can't... walk... and... talk... simultaneously... Okay, got it. Anything else interesting about you?"

Eddie is unable to contain his amusement, much to his chagrin.

"Alright, _wise-guy_. What do you want to know?" Eddie asks in a playful tone. He figures that he might as well indulge Richie's ridiculousness now. Richie seems like the type of person that won't stop bugging him otherwise.

"I guess you could start with the basics – your full name, your social security number, credit card number..." Richie lists off. Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"My full name is Edward Lawrence Kaspbrak."

"Handsome name! Lawrence? I like that."

"...and I'm not giving you my social security number."

"What about your credit card number?"

"I don't have a credit card."

"Ah, so you're _lame_ and _a killjoy_. Good to know!"

"Better than being _nosy_ and _a jerk_."

Richie raises his hands defensively. Eddie can tell that he's shocked by the comeback - which is odd because he knows that it wasn't that much of a zinger.

"Woah, Eds, I didn't know you were the sassy type," Richie says. His tone is reverent, and Eddie is befuddled.

"Considering the fact that we met, like, five minutes ago, there's a lot you don't know about me. I don't know why you're so surprised by that – "

"There you go again! You're killing me, Eds!"

"Must not take much to kill you, then.”

Richie howls at that one, and Eddie grimaces at how loud he is.

“Anyway, this is a tour, so it would be pretty pointless to walk around without telling you where everything is," Eddie says. Richie reluctantly agrees (but only after Eddie puts his foot down – Richie apparently wanted to wing it). Eddie leads him around the school, telling him which hallways lead where.

He can't help but notice that Richie never stops talking. He doesn't ever talk over Eddie, but Eddie is sure that he has said every single thought that's popped into his head. Richie is surprisingly observant; he points out a lot of things that Eddie hasn't ever paid attention to before. He certainly hasn't noticed how many ways a person could sneak out of school without being caught.

The banter flows easily between them. Eddie isn't used to snarking so openly; usually, he holds his tongue and keeps his smart comments to himself. Richie has this uncanny ability to pull the words from him though, which Eddie finds both refreshing and annoying.

Their shoulders bump together occasionally, and Eddie has almost tripped over his own feet trying to avoid stepping on Richie's shoes. It's not like Eddie particularly minds, he just finds it a little inconvenient. Otherwise, it feels... pleasant. Richie's forearm brushes against his own, and he wonders if Richie can feel the goosebumps that have risen on his skin.

"So, Eds, which way to your locker?" Richie asks curiously. They just finished the last leg of the tour, which ended when Eddie showed Richie where the fine arts hallway is. Eddie groans.

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah, no kidding. Some mornings I have to run so I'm not late for homeroom," Eddie complains.

"Is that why you're wearing those shorts?" Richie asks, his eyes flickering down to Eddie's legs. His gaze lingers, and this time Eddie feels almost pleased by the attention.

"Uh, no. I have gym first period. I don't really like to be in the locker rooms more than necessary," Eddie explains. Richie looks like he might say something else, but they turn into a dimly lit corridor before he can. The fluorescent lights flicker above them as they walk. The windows on the doors at the end of the hallway are covered up from their last lockdown drill. The lack of natural light streaming in makes the hallway much darker than the others, which Eddie finds annoying.

"Well, this hallway is kind of spooky. You didn't bring me down here to off me, did ya?"

"Would I tell you that if I were planning to?" Eddie asks.

"Touché."

"The answer is no, though. You wanted me to show you where my locker is," he says. He stops at the right-hand lockers near the end of the second row, crouching to level with his own.

"Oh, that _blows_ ," Richie jokes, tongue-in-cheek. Eddie grimaces and shoots him an exasperated look. He really needs to work on his double entendres. Richie only brushes it off and continues.

"Your locker is in purgatory, and it's on the bottom row? Who did you piss off?"

"I didn't _do_ anything," He murmurs as he enters his combination, "I was just unlucky."

Eddie quickly grabs the stuff he needs for his first few classes. Unfortunately, he needs to carry a lot of things because he doesn't ever have enough time to go to his locker in between bells. The textbooks never completely fit into his bag, so he always ends up carrying them.

Richie surprises Eddie by snatching up his books when he sets them aside.

"What are you doing?" he asks dubiously, hand frozen on one of the binders in his locker.

"What does it look like, Spaghetti Head? I'm carrying your books for you. Like a gentleman!" Richie says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He holds them up in a way that makes Eddie nervous. He really isn't keen on having textbooks dropped on his head, and he tells Richie as much. He goes back to putting his binders into his bag after Richie steps back.

"You really don't have to carry those, you know that, right?" Eddie says as they start walking again, "I carry them every morning with no problem. While running."

"Bet that looks weird," Richie muses, and Eddie gives up on trying to reason with him. The corridor is quiet except for the scuffing of their shoes while Eddie thinks of what he should say next. The sound of people entering the hallway through the door behind them cuts through the air and his train of thought derails completely. Eddie winces when he hears the voices of Henry Bowers and his friends echoing off the lockers. Their unfortunate timing is enough to make a preacher cuss, and Eddie is not far off from cursing, himself.

He sees Richie glance behind them. He knows it's a subconscious response to new stimuli in the environment, but it doesn't stop Eddie from pursing his lips. Eddie tries to speed up subtly, to put more distance between them and Bowers. His hands turn white from clenching his bag straps. Richie gives him a confused look, lengthening his stride to catch up.

"Eddie, what – " He starts, his voice too loud, and Eddie tenses. The conversation behind them stops, and the momentary silence that settles over them lasts for what seems like an eternity.

"Hey, it's the girly boy!"

"Nice shorts, faggot!" Eddie hears Bowers call out. The sound of his voice makes Eddie grit his teeth. He gives Richie a sideways glance, but Richie is facing Bowers.

"Well, you're one to talk! Your friends must be assholes, letting you walk around with that ugly fuckin’ ferret on your head!" Richie yells back, and Eddie's jaw drops in horror. He turns and watches as Bowers’ face contorts in anger.

"Who the fuck are you? Wheezy's boyfriend or something?" Henry snarls, stomping up to them. He stops when he's as close to Richie as he can be with Eddie's books in the way. Henry’s friends approach, too, but they stand back idly instead of engaging. Richie stands his ground, a nonchalant smirk on his face.

"What's it to ya, fuckface? Ya writing a book?" Richie asks, and Eddie gasps.

" _Richie_!" Eddie hisses quietly, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. He feels the panic bubbling up in his chest, constricting his lungs. Richie spares him an unworried look, and Henry ignores him completely.

"Whatever!" Henry snaps, "I don't need to know who you are to beat your ass!"

"Oh, I'm really fucking scared!" Richie retorts, and the vein in Henry's forehead bulges. He lunges at Richie so suddenly that it catches Eddie off-guard. Richie side steps Henry's fist and chucks the textbooks at him. Eddie jumps back when one of the books ricochets off Henry's knee. The other book hits Henry in the stomach, and he's indisposed momentarily. Richie is laughing when Henry finally tackles him to the ground, and Eddie thinks that he's probably the ballsiest person he's ever met. Or maybe the craziest.

He watches them scuffle helplessly. Henry's buddies whoop and cheer as they roll around. Eddie feels sick to his stomach.

"You punch like my kid sister!" Eddie hears Richie taunt maniacally, and the impact of Henry's fist against Richie's mouth makes him cringe. Eddie desperately prays for a distraction, or for lightning to strike Henry. He clumsily fishes for the inhaler in his fanny pack.

"HEY! BREAK IT UP!" A voice booms from the end of the corridor, and Eddie feels relief wash over him. Mr. Womack, Eddie's tenth grade English teacher, strides over to them purposefully. He grabs Henry by the collar of his shirt and pulls him off Richie. Eddie immediately leans down to help Richie up, and Richie smiles at him gratefully, blood trickling down his chin from his busted lip. Eddie's stomach flips. Richie stands shakily, one of his arms braced around Eddie's shoulders.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Mr. Womack barks. He looks amongst the boys, and his eyes land on Eddie.

"Eddie, what happened here?" Mr. Womack stares at him expectantly, and Eddie takes a stabilizing breath from his inhaler.

"Henry attacked Richie, sir," Eddie rasps, gesturing from Henry to Richie. Henry's eye twitches in annoyance, and he's glaring daggers at him. Eddie ignores him, looking at Mr. Womack earnestly.

Mr. Womack examines the injuries that Richie sustained and deems them only flesh wounds. Eddie watches him as he decides how to handle the situation.

"Henry... Richie, to the principal's office, pronto. The rest of you get to class. You'll be called to the office later," Mr. Womack delegates, and Eddie glances at Richie. Something akin to panic flashes through his eyes.

"Wait, Mr. Womack! Richie just transferred here! I told him that I would show him where his classes are," Eddie stammers out quickly, "He doesn't even know anyone here yet. He didn't do anything wrong!"

Mr. Womack considers this, and he eventually lets out a defeated sigh.

"Right, okay. I'll let them know," He says, "He'll be called to the office later. Get to class then."

Eddie thanks him and quickly gathers his books. He gently pulls Richie down the hallway, ignoring the way Henry and his friends are glaring at them as they pass.

"Do you have a death wish or something?" Eddie asks furiously when they get out of earshot. He leads Richie into a different corridor, slowing to a stop at the water fountains. He pulls an unopened pack of travel tissues from his fanny pack. Eddie dampens one of the tissues, and he gently nudges Richie into a position that makes it easier to clean his face.

"Well, if an angel like you is going to take care of me every time I get hurt, maybe I do have one," Richie says. He smiles at Eddie cheekily, and Eddie snorts.

"Too corny. Try again," he mumbles. Richie chuckles, his breath brushing against Eddie’s knuckles.

“Come on, that was a good one!”

“You could probably do better,” Eddie says, tossing the soiled tissue into the trash can. He pulls some hand sanitizer from his fanny pack and dabs some into his hand out of habit. He checks his watch again and shakes his head.

“Looks like we missed homeroom,” He says, “I need to get to gym soon. Do you need help getting to your first class?”

“Nah, I think I’m good,” Richie says, waving him off.

“Right, well, I’ll uh… see you later?” Eddie says uncertainly. He almost winces at how lame he sounds.

“Yeah, actually. Hey, do you wanna… hang out with me Friday?” Richie asks casually, “I have no fuckin’ clue what there is to do around this town, so you could show me what you do for fun or something.”

Eddie is taken aback by Richie’s invitation. He certainly wasn’t expecting Richie to be even remotely interested in being his friend, so this comes as a surprise to him. Eddie is sure that he looks ridiculous, gaping at Richie as if he had spouted another head, so he composes himself quickly.

“Uh, sure. I’d love to. Hang out with you, I mean,” He stammers. Richie grins and pulls his phone from his pocket.

“Cool! Here, enter your number,” He says cheerfully. He hands Eddie the phone, and it takes everything in Eddie’s power to not drop it. He shifts the textbooks into the crook of his arm to type. He creates a contact for himself in the phone and hands it back to Richie. Richie glances over the contact page, and he feels his face heat up when Richie raises an eyebrow at him.

“Really? You put your full name?” Richie asks, and he types something else into his phone. Eddie assumes that he's changing the name he entered.

“Uh, what else would I put? One of your lame nicknames?” Eddie asks haughtily.

“Preferably! Maybe even put some heart emojis! Come on, Eds. I know you like them,” Richie teases.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Eddie says, and he points behind himself with his thumb, “Anyway, I really have to go now.”

“Seeya, Eddie Spaghetti!”

“Bye, Richard,” he shoots back, and he revels in the way Richie grimaces in disdain. They both go their separate ways. Eddie is sure that he’ll have to run extra laps for being late to gym, but he doesn’t mind. At least he has a lot to think about while he does.


	2. new friends, new faces (you look so cute when you're pressed against the alley wall)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hihi I'm back~
> 
> I almost forgot about updating this omg... I've been so busy the past two weeks tbh... college is so stressful  
> please be patient... I will try my hardest to keep up my update schedule with my homework and such haha
> 
> right so I hope you guys like this chapter! there are gratuitous references to snapchat... a movie date... ;Dc  
> I really like writing the dialogue between these two honestly...  
> small warning for a lil bit of gore. it doesn't involve the characters, but I was setting the mood lol
> 
> lol idk if you can tell but I'm tired djflsdkfj... on to the chapter then

Eddie stands near the corner of Main and Kansas Street, waiting anxiously for Richie to arrive. He knows that this isn't a date, but it doesn't keep the anticipation from welling up inside of him, which is something he's never felt when he went out on any of his blind dates. He nervously fiddles with the zipper on his fanny pack, staring at the birds perched on the power lines to pass the time. They had agreed to meet at this time earlier this morning, on the corner of the street where the drugstore is located. Eddie had even arrived twenty minutes before the time they're supposed to meet (mostly due to the restless energy that had settled inside of him; he had walked out the house and down the street before he even realized what he was doing).

He checks his watch again. Richie is five minutes late, which makes him feel kind of annoyed. Eddie is used to being busy so he's usually a stickler about being on time. He isn't even sure if Richie knows where the drugstore is, but because Richie has a smartphone, Eddie expected him to be able to find it without much trouble. He eventually sits down with his back against the wall, tired of standing. Bored of watching the birds, he scrolls on his phone to pass the time instead.

Eddie’s mother doesn't allow him to have social media accounts, nor is he allowed to put a lock on his phone that she doesn't know. His mother hasn't checked his phone for a while, but he's overly cautious about what's on it anyways. It's pretty barren, aside from some games that he rarely plays, a Bible app, and the pre-installed apps. He passes time by rereading some of the text messages that he and Richie had exchanged in the past week. Most of them are random conversations spurred on by Richie's strange observations, others are just about the plans they made. Richie also likes to send Eddie these strange memes that he isn't too familiar with. Sometimes Pastor Reilly will create outdated memes related to church, and that is the extent of Eddie's knowledge of memes. Eddie thinks the church memes are lame, but the memes that Richie likes to show him make him laugh (despite their tendency to fly over his head completely).

Eddie double checks the timestamp of the message that Richie sent to tell him that he was en-route. It's been thirty minutes since then. He doesn't have time to feel worried, though, because Richie chooses that moment to finally show up. He looks tetchy; his hands are in his pockets, and his eyes are downcast. He perks up when he sees Eddie, though, and Eddie smiles back hesitantly.

"Sorry for being so late, Eds! Got caught up by Ray again," Richie says as he approaches. Eddie feels slightly confused by Richie addressing his own grandfather by his first name, but he doesn't comment.  
Richie offers his hand to help him up. Eddie puts his phone in his fanny pack and brushes himself off.

"Why didn't you just text me?" Eddie asks, his hands on his hips. Richie smiles sheepishly and shrugs.

"Oh, I uh... turned off my phone when I left the house," Richie says flippantly as if it’s something people normally do. He pulls his cell-phone from his pocket and turns it back on. The phone vibrates multiple times in quick succession as soon as it boots up, but Richie just shoves it back into his pocket. Eddie stares at him in confusion.

"Right... well, it doesn't matter if you're here now, I guess," Eddie says, "Maybe next time you're going to be late, you should give me a heads-up, though?"

"Don't worry, Eds. I promise I'll warn you next time," Richie says. He gives Eddie a salute before gesturing to the entrance to the store. "Let's head inside then, shall we?"

Eddie rolls his eyes and brushes past him. "We shall," he says as he passes the threshold.

The frigid air hits Eddie all at once, a pleasant chill settling over him from the AC that is on full blast. It's much cooler inside the drugstore than it is outside, which Eddie is thankful for. Richie walks in on his heels, practically glued to him – so close that Eddie can feel Richie’s appreciative exhale on the back of his neck.

“It's fucking huge in here, dude… do they really sell clothes here? Holy shit,” Richie observes rhetorically, wandering from Eddie’s side to snoop through all the things for sale.

It's very old-fashioned inside, with racks of colorful clothes and various trinkets and essential items lining the shelves that they pass. The building is quite large for a small-town drugstore, with three counters in total. The front counter is manned by a very bored looking teenage girl – Greta Bowie. Eddie tends to avoid her because of her nasty attitude; he had been lucky enough to not interact with her much after their entrance into high school – the most he gets from her nowadays is a sneer or a blank look – which is a marked improvement from her middle school tormenting. She scrolls through her phone and ignores them completely, even when Richie stops to look at the colorful postcards on the rack atop the counter beside her. The drug counter is in the back left corner of the store, separated from the sandwich counter by a walkway that leads to the bathrooms.

Eddie makes his way to the sandwich counter. He hears Richie's shoes scuffing the floor behind him. He notices that the clerk from his first date with Myra is working the counter again, and he feels strangely embarrassed because of it. Richie stops beside him and squints up at the menu.

"Do you come here often, sweetheart?" Richie asks, and he nudges Eddie with his shoulder. The joke is lost on him, though.

"Yeah, actually. I have a few prescriptions that need to be filled every month, so..." Eddie replies distractedly, his arms crossed. He looks at the menu without reading it, bringing his thumbnail to his mouth to chew on. He's already decided to just order his usual, so there isn't any reason for him to read it, but he stares at it to avoid looking at the clerk.

"Really?" Richie asks, “Do you come here for dates? Bevvie says you're quite the Casanova.”

Eddie tears his eyes from the menu, so he can look at him. He furrows his eyebrows. He would hardly consider himself a Casanova – Eddie has never been interested in the girls he’s been on dates with. He's not about to admit that to Richie, though.

"Uh, well, yeah. Sometimes. They have good milkshakes here," Eddie replies. His cheeks heat up, and he's thankful that Richie only spares him a sideways glance.

"Hm. What flavor do you usually get?" Richie asks. They discuss the menu for a few moments before stepping up to the counter to order. Eddie tries not to mumble his order, and he's fairly sure he does, but the clerk keys it in with no problem. Richie orders after him, and he adds on two milkshakes to the bill. Eddie hadn't planned on getting a milkshake, and he wants to protest. He ignores it, though, because Richie pulls out his wallet and pays for both of their meals before Eddie can even speak.

"Wait, Richie, you don't have to – " Eddie starts.

"Nah, I've got this! Don't worry about it," Richie says. He drops the coins that the clerk hands him into the tip jar, and he stuffs the bills and the receipt with their order number on it into his wallet.  
"But – "

"No buts! You can pay next time if you're so hung up on it," he says, cutting Eddie off again. He leads Eddie to a booth and plops down. Eddie sits across from him and leans his arms against the table.  
Richie pulls his phone out, but he places it face down instead of using it.

"Right, so. I was thinking we could go see a movie after this," Richie states, "It starts at like, six." There's a smirk on his face that makes Eddie feel worried.

"Uh, sounds fun. Which movie did you have in mind?" He asks, looking at Richie warily.

"Ah, you'll see. I want it to be a surprise," Richie says. He drops the conversation immediately after, which makes Eddie feel even more nervous. They lapse into an easy conversation until the clerk brings their food and milkshakes.

Eddie immediately brings his milkshake toward himself. He tears off the bit of paper still left on the top of the straw, sucking on it a few different ways until the milkshake finally comes through it. When he glances up, Richie is staring at him with an amused look, phone in hand.

"Just diving right into the milkshake, huh, Eds? You'll ruin your appetite like that," He says, and he brings his phone up to snap a picture of him. Eddie quickly shields his eyes when he realizes what he's doing, and Richie laughs.

"Richie! Delete that!" He hisses, reaching across the table for Richie's phone, but Richie only sits back and types something.

"Feeling camera shy? Don't worry, I only sent it to Bev," Richie says, "Hey, what's your Snap by the way?"

Eddie sighs and sits back in defeat.

"I don't have one," He says, fidgeting with the stray straw paper. Richie looks at him as if he's grown three heads.

"What? Who doesn't have Snapchat? You have to make one!" He says, bewildered. He sets his phone down and gestures for Eddie to hand him his own.

"I can't. My mom doesn't let me have things like that on my phone."

Richie purses his lips at that, and Eddie can tell that he resents it.

"Don't worry about it. She won't find out. Just don't use all your data with it," Richie says confidently, and he flexes his fingers again. Eddie bites his bottom lip and considers it. His mom hasn't checked his phone in a while, and he's always wanted to download some social media apps, just so he could see what all the fuss is about.

Eddie pulls out his phone and unlocks it, hesitantly placing it into Richie's waiting hand. Richie scrolls through his phone, presumably opening the app store and installing Snapchat.

"Jeez. You really don't have anything on here," Richie murmurs.

"What should your username be?" He asks, "I'm partial to eds.spaghett... Hm, yeah let's make it that!"

Eddie's eyes widen, and he shakes his head.

"No, Richie! _Don't_ make it that –"

"Too late, Eds. It's already there. What password do you want? I promise not to hack you… Wait, never mind. I'll just use your Google information."

"Right, whatever. Are you done?"

"No, Eds! I have to make you a Bitmoji first!"

"A what now?"

"You don't know what a –?" Richie asks, but he trails off when Eddie shoots him a look. " Never mind. Just trust me."

Eddie waits impatiently for Richie to finish up... whatever he's doing. Richie glances up at him every so often and studies him intently. Eddie's stomach flutters when he does, and he tries to hide his embarrassment by eating a few fries casually.

"Done!" Richie says suddenly, and Eddie almost jumps out of his seat. Richie shoves his phone back into his hand. Eddie stares down at the screen.

"I added myself and Bev for you. You can add your other friends if you wanna," Richie says. He turns his attention to his own food while Eddie swipes through the Snapchat screen uncertainly.

"Do you need me to explain how to use it?"

"Uh, thanks, but no," Eddie says. He smiles when he sees that Beverly sent him a Snap. It's a selfie of her and Mike. She captioned it with, "hey mike says to add him, jerk!!" followed by Mike's handle. He fumbles through the interface for a minute before he sees that Mike has added him already.

"Just because I don't have any other social media doesn't mean that I'm completely inept with technology," He mutters as he adds Mike back.

"Well ex-squeeze me!" Richie teases, "You don't even know what a Bitmoji is! How was I supposed to know that you aren't as clueless about phones as my grandmother?"

"Maybe you shouldn't judge someone before you know them, then," Eddie says haughtily, "I gave you the same courtesy. It's only fair!"

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" Richie asks. He looks affronted, and Eddie almost backtracks. He rubs his neck nervously. He may as well tell Richie about the gossip surrounding him. It wouldn't be right to keep it from him, anyway.

"Well, you have a reputation apparently. There were a lot of rumors about you before you even moved here," He mumbles, "I don't really pay attention to that sort of thing, though."

"How sweet of you," Richie drawls in some strange accent. He places his hand over his heart daintily before continuing, "Did ya defend my honor, Edward?"

Eddie takes a moment to stare at him as if he'd lost his marbles. He really has the weirdest taste in guys.

"Well, I didn't know you to be able to defend you, but now... no, I – I wouldn't really defend you now either," He says, shaking his head. "They're kinda right. You really are a closet case. That shit you pulled with Bowers was probably the most idiotic thing I've ever witnessed."

To his surprise, Richie laughs at this. He throws his head back against the booth behind him and places a hand over his stomach. The sound of his genuine laughter causes Eddie's insides to erupt with butterflies, and he feels his lips quirk.

"Gah, I'm wounded! I can't really argue with you there, though!" Richie says when he finally stops laughing. "You're so fuckin' harsh! Oh, wait, wait, wait! Did you _cuss_ just now?"

"I didn't!" Eddie says quickly, his eyes wide. He slaps a hand over his mouth. He doesn't remember swearing! Eddie hasn't ever developed the habit before! His mother would wash his mouth out with soap if he ever swore, even in middle school.

"Oh, _no way_ , you totally did! You said shit!" Richie crows, and he starts laughing all over again. “This is wild! Have I already rubbed off on you, Eds?”

Eddie purses his lips in annoyance and throws the straw paper at him. Richie sticks his tongue out in retaliation.

“You've hardly rubbed off on me. Far too early in this relationship for that,” Eddie says, and he picks at the fries on his plate. He feels slightly mortified with himself for cracking such a lewd joke, his cheeks betraying any of the apathy in his tone. Richie's grin can't get any wider. He leans his chin against his hand.

“Oh, is that so? Not even after I've bought you dinner?” He jokes. “Well, I won't pressure you, Eds! I know you're a Pure Christian Boy. Guess I'm in it for the long haul!”

“Sure, if the long haul is your entire life and then some,” Eddie says, and Richie pouts.

“I'm wounded! If you're so adamant about it, I guess I could just go –” Richie says, gesturing to get up. Eddie reaches across the table and grabs Richie’s wrist before he even realizes it.

“Wait, no! I was joking –” He stammers out quickly. He's met with laughter.

“Oh my God, your face is priceless! Don't worry, I'm not leaving,” Richie says, snickering. “But I do have to go to the john, though. I'll be right back, honey! Don't go nowhere!”

Richie kisses Eddie's hand with an over-exaggerated “mwah!” and bounces out of the booth in the direction of the restrooms.

Eddie watches Richie go, his insides fluttering wildly. He stares at his hand for a moment before quickly picking his phone up, desperate for a distraction. He doesn't immediately unlock it, though, and instead, he ends up drifting off into a daydream. He doesn't know how to deal with a guy that's so casually affectionate with him, and it makes Eddie feel kind of pathetic. He briefly imagines what it would be like to be in an actual relationship with Richie, the thoughts making his cheeks feel warm. He's interrupted by Richie’s phone buzzing on the table. Eddie watches it buzz, inching closer to Richie’s plate due to the vibration. Hesitantly, he grabs the phone with the intent to look at the caller ID, and his eyes dart to the bathroom. Richie hasn't come out yet, so he looks down at the phone that's violently shaking his fingers.

  
_Ray_. Eddie wonders what Pastor Tozier needs, but he would never answer the call. He's afraid that Richie wouldn't trust him ever again if he found out. Instead, Eddie waits until the phone cuts out.  
The notification tray reads “ _5 Unheard Voicemails_.” Is that why Richie turned his phone off? Eddie chews his bottom lip, confused. He doesn't have much time to ponder it though, because he hears the bathroom door slide open, and he quickly sets down the phone as if he had been scalded.

Richie plops back down into his seat across from Eddie, unaware of Eddie trespassing on his privacy. He's smiling widely.

“Didn't keep you waiting too long, did I?” he asks cheerfully, diving back into his food.

“Actually, I'm more concerned about you coming back so quickly. Did you even wash your hands?” Eddie asks, warily eyeing Richie's fingers from where they’re wrapped around his sandwich.

“Wanna smell ‘em to find out?” Richie offers childishly, and Eddie’s face scrunches up in disgust.

“I’ll pass, thanks.”

“Your loss! The soap here smells like _vanilla and honey_ ,” he intones, and he taps his phone’s home button with his free hand. His eyes widen, and Eddie watches him with trepidation. There’s no way Richie would know that Eddie had looked at his phone, but it doesn’t keep Eddie from feeling paranoid about it.

“We have to leave soon if we’re going to make it to that movie, Eds,” He relays, shoveling food in his mouth at a pace that makes Eddie worry that he might choke. He inwardly feels relieved.

“I think we’ll have enough time, Rich. The Aladdin is like, right down the road from here…” Eddie says uncertainly, checking the time on his own phone.

“Just trust me, Eds. Shove some food into that pretty little mouth of yours and let’s bounce,” Richie says after swallowing a large mouthful of food. Eddie hesitantly does what Richie said, but not before leveling him with an annoyed look.

He finishes his food as quickly as he can without making a mess or choking, while Richie practically inhales his own. The only thing he brings with him is his milkshake, as it was already served in a to-go cup. (Richie had somehow managed to finish all his, and Eddie wonders if he has a bottomless pit for a stomach.) They leave the drugstore thirty minutes before the movie is supposed to start, which confuses Eddie to no end.

Richie walks at a quick pace, and Eddie is forced to jog just to keep up with his long legs.

“Jeez, Rich. Wait up,” Eddie pants, and Richie sheepishly slows down. He feels a sense of relief when he sees the awning of the Aladdin. Before he can get to the edge of the building, Richie pulls him into the alley. He looks around cautiously before leaning in close to Eddie, his voice soft.

“Listen, we’re going to have to sneak into the movie, so don't freak out on me,” Richie says conspiratorially, “We’re going to buy tickets for one movie and then sneak into the showing for a different one.”  
Eddie’s eyes widen, his mouth dropping open.

“Richie, we can't do that!” He protests loudly. Richie covers his mouth with a hand and shushes him.

“Come on, Eddie. It'll be fun!” He insists, pulling his hand away. “The movie I want us to see requires an ID to get in, and neither of us is eighteen yet. Please?”

Eddie chews his lower lip, his mind running a mile a minute. He's never done something so risky, and he doesn't want to. Richie is staring at him with puppy dog eyes though, and it makes Eddie feel defenseless.  
“W – what if we get caught?” He asks tentatively. His mind supplies him with all the consequences: they could be banned from the theater for life, they could be arrested for trespassing… his mother would never let him hang out with Richie ever again. Richie rubs his shoulders reassuringly.

“We won’t be! Eddie, I've theater hopped with like… five people before, and I’ve never been caught. It's all about the confidence!” Richie states lowly, and Eddie takes a minute to collect himself.

“... Okay. We’ll do it,” Eddie murmurs without conviction.

Richie's face breaks out into a huge grin.

“Just follow my lead!”

Richie walks up to the ticket booth with Eddie trailing behind, trying to act casual. He drops the remains of his milkshake into the bin as they pass by. Richie buys two tickets to some animated movie – something from Pixar, probably – and Eddie feels guilty watching as the twenty slides across the counter.

“Thanks, dollface!” Richie says to the clerk, and he grabs Eddie’s hand to lead him inside. Eddie wants to pull his hand away – his palms are sweaty from nervousness. But Richie doesn't seem to notice nor care. They pass the arcade machines, which are being commandeered by some middle schoolers, their faces bathed in artificial light and their voices loud. Richie buys himself some candy at the concessions counter, Sour Patch Kids and Milk Duds.

“Want anything, Eds?” Richie asks as he digs through his wallet, “I have my card on me if you want popcorn or something.”

Eddie shakes his head quickly, and Richie stares at him for a moment before shrugging.

“You can have some of my candy then. But you can't have any of my Sour Patch Kids. I'll bite your finger off,” he jokes, grabbing the boxes off the counter. They give their tickets to the movie attendant, who rips them and gives them the stubs, and he points them toward the end of the hallway.

“Theater five,” He drawls, and he starts on the tickets for the group that had walked in after them.

Richie thanks him, pulling Eddie along by his hand. They pass theater five and walk into theater seven. Richie doesn't give Eddie a second to look at the movie that's playing, but the glimpse Eddie got told him that it's a horror movie. Eddie hadn't had any time to watch regular television lately, so he doesn't have any idea what the movie could be about.

Richie pulls him up to the nosebleed seats, and they plop down in the middle of the row. There are a few people already sitting in the theater, enough for them to blend in, but attendants never come into the theater rooms anyway.

“Will you tell me what this movie is now?” Eddie whispers as the previews play, but Richie only smirks at him, popping some Milk Duds into his mouth.

“You're too impatient, Edward. Wouldn't it be more exciting to watch it without knowing what it is?” Richie says as he chews, with no concern about speaking softly. Eddie gives him a pointed look when someone in the row ahead of them turns to glare at them.

“Fine. Don't tell me then,” Eddie huffs.

“Didn't plan on it,” Richie mutters smugly. He pushes the armrest up and puts his arm around Eddie's shoulders, propping his feet on the empty seat in front of him. He holds his open candy boxes between his thighs.

Eddie licks his chapped lips nervously, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth again. He hesitantly leans into Richie’s side, shifting until he's comfortable. He crosses his arms and knees, a fluttery feeling taking up residence in his chest. His head rests against Richie’s shoulder, and he can feel the rise and fall of Richie’s chest. Richie's breath brushes against the curls on the top of his head, displacing them ever so slightly.

  
The movie starts soon enough, and Eddie forces himself to concentrate. It seems like a standard slasher flick. The characters are a bunch of teenagers at a Christian summer camp, and Eddie is quite sure he's never been to a camp where the people act the way they do: underage drinking, parties after dark, skipping activities… Actual summer camp is never as interesting.

The first scene starts out with them all sitting at a campfire, trading scary urban legends and drinking cheap liquor from a flask – the usual fare for slasher movies.

Two of the teens slip away from the group to make out in the woods (not a clever idea, in Eddie's opinion). He watches uncomfortably as the guy slips his hand up the girl's shirt, the kissing sounds making him nauseous. He turns his face away when it becomes more gratuitously sexual. It isn’t Eddie’s cup of tea – the feeling of watching a sex scene in a theater full of strangers is about as appealing as watching one next to his mother.

His eyes flicker up to Richie's face. Richie's eyes are on the screen, but his expression is neutral aside from a small quirk of his lips.

 _His lips_. Eddie’s eyes lock onto them, his mind racing. The sounds of the movie are distant now – replaced by the hammering in Eddie’s chest. Richie licks his lips – a reflex, surely. They probably taste like the sour coating from his candy; Eddie subconsciously wants to find out. The guy in the movie lets out a groan – he wonders if Richie is loud.

Eddie watches as Richie’s eyes light up in sadistic delight when screams erupt from the screen. There are some gross squelching sounds… a chainsaw whirrs as it tears through someone's skin. Eddie isn’t focused on that, though. He doesn’t have to spare a glance to know that it’s probably a gory mess on screen. He watches Richie’s reactions, though. He looks like a child on Christmas – which Eddie would find genuinely concerning if he weren’t so dazzled by him. Richie cringes at some point, and Eddie’s eyes flick toward the screen. He doesn’t have to look too long to see that the guy’s genitals were being mutilated by the chainsaw. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. _What is the appeal of watching something like this_?

When he looks back to Richie, their eyes meet. Richie’s eyebrows raise, the silent question of “ _now how about that_?” on his face. Eddie’s nose scrunches up in disgust, and Richie laughs at him silently.

He taps Eddie’s nose and mouths “ _cute_!” Eddie rolls his eyes and bats Richie’s hand away, feeling like he could combust from embarrassment at any moment. He turns his attention back to the screen, intent on watching the movie instead of Richie.

It’s the longest two hours of his life. The movie’s effects are realistic, but aside from that, it’s a total snooze fest. Richie seems like he enjoys watching it, but Eddie is glad when the credits finally roll so they can leave.

“So, did ya like it, Eddie?” Richie asks cheerfully as he discards his empty candy boxes into the trash can. Eddie shrugs.

“I don’t usually watch stuff like that, but the effects were cool,” He says, and Richie’s eyes gleam.

“I know right? That was the whole reason I wanted to watch it!” He exclaims, and Eddie smiles as he begins to ramble passionately about visual effects. Eddie supposes that Richie spends a lot of time thinking about movies. They walk out slowly, stopping at the bathrooms as Richie talks about movie magic.

“Hold on, Rich. I have to use the bathroom real quick,” Eddie says, holding up a hand to stop him. “I’ll be right back.”

“I miss you already, Eds. Don’t keep me waiting!” Richie says, and Eddie looks up at the ceiling in fond exasperation. There’s a pep in his step, though, and he’s grinning bashfully as he enters the bathroom. (He feels like he probably looks like a loon by doing so, but he can’t find it in himself to care all that much.)

The grin slips from his face when he sees Henry Bowers at one of the urinals (something he wishes he could bleach from his brain.) He decides quickly that he’d rather hold it in than catch Henry’s attention, so he turns and walks right back out.

Richie is looking down at his phone when Eddie walks up, a pensive expression on his face. He seems surprised when he looks up and sees that Eddie is already back.

“Wow, okay. Did _you_ wash _your_ hands? Because that was quick,” Richie jokes, “I know I said to not keep me waiting, but I didn’t expect you to be _that_ fast.”

“Henry Bowers was in there!” Eddie whispers quickly and grabs Richie’s arm. He tugs him toward the entrance. “Let’s leave before he comes out!”

Richie looks back at the bathroom, his expression stricken. Eddie spares a glance and sees that Bowers has already come out.

“Too late,” Richie says, and they hurriedly slam the exit door open, barreling out into the evening.

The sun is low in the purple sky, dusk settling over Derry like a trance. A cool breeze rolls past them, and Eddie shivers. He can hear the theater door open again as they pass the alley.

Eddie barely registers that Richie has pushed him against the wall of the alley until he feels his breath against his cheek. His heart is bound to jump right out of his chest when Richie puts a finger to his lips. Richie peeks his head around the edge of the building. The coast must be clear because he turns his attention back to Eddie and smiles.

Everything is still for a moment – it’s as if the world around them has stopped. The look on Richie’s face melts into something more meaningful as they stare at each other. Richie’s eyes are intense as they take in Eddie’s flushed cheeks, and his body is so firm against his – as firm as the bricks behind him. Richie brings his hands up to cup his face, and he strokes Eddie’s cheeks gently. A wave of elation passes through Eddie at the affectionate gesture. _Is this what he’s been missing_?

The neon glow of the Aladdin’s sign on Richie’s skin makes him look so gorgeous and ethereal that Eddie can hardly believe he’s real. Richie’s lips hover over his own until he manages to utter a soft “ _please_ ”. As soon as Richie presses his lips to his, his stomach swoops below his knees. Richie’s lips are deliberate; Eddie can tell that he’s experienced. He feels like he can sprout wings and fly at any moment. He brings his hands up to grasp Richie’s forearms to ground himself. He’s never been kissed like this before; he feels so dizzy. He could write scriptures about the feeling of Richie’s lips against his own – an entire Bible, maybe – but he’s certain he could never capture the feeling precisely. The sound of his own heartbeat, of Richie’s small sighs when the kiss wanes, of the flickering sign above them… all of it would put a choir to shame.

  
Richie eventually pulls back, and Eddie is panting, his eyebrows drawn together. Richie pulls him closer, his knee between Eddie’s thighs. Sparks shoot up his spine, and his eyes flutter shut as he moans softly. Richie’s lips trail down his jaw, and Eddie tilts his head back. He whimpers when he feels Richie’s teeth scrape against the sensitive skin on his neck.

“ _Richie_ ,” He murmurs. He tangles his hands through Richie’s curls. He feels the pleasure thrumming through his hips as Richie’s knee shifts. He can feel Richie’s fingers brushing up and down his sides tenderly, and one of his hands shifts to the arch of Eddie’s spine.

“Eddie…” Richie says, “Eddie… Eddie Spaghetti!”

The fantasy falls apart in an instant, and Eddie realizes that Richie is trying to get his attention.

“Where were ya, Eds? It’s like your mind was in a whole ‘nother galaxy,” Richie says, but there’s the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips – almost as if he knows what Eddie had been fantasizing about.  
Eddie is too flustered to speak for a moment.

“It’s nothing,” He murmurs, “The wall was cold. It just shocked me.”

It’s a lame excuse – they both know that – but Richie just shrugs. He nods toward the sidewalk.

“Come on. I’ll walk you home,” Richie says with a soft smile. His eyes are warm, and Eddie’s heart flutters.

“Would you even know your way home from my house?” Eddie asks as they fall into step. They pass the buildings at a leisurely pace. The sun has dipped below the horizon – the streetlights flicker on, an electronic hum filling the air around them.

Richie laughs and says that he’ll manage somehow. Eddie hums skeptically, but he prods him into continuing the conversation he had derailed earlier.

Eddie’s mother reprimands him when he gets home, tutting angrily about him missing his curfew, but he doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he apologizes quickly so he can go to his room and daydream in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh,, I hope you enjoyed this chapter~~ 
> 
> I probably got u didn't I...... sorry not sorry kshfjsdfh
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated xoxo
> 
> I'll be back in two weeks!!!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm having so much fun playing around with canon tbh~ there are so many things I want to do with this fanfiction and I have... so much planned haha I have no clue how many chapters there will be yet but I've been planning the chapters with an OUTLINE... I feel so professional haha - - 
> 
> So yes, the fic will be updated the Friday after next (sorry, I won't be swayed on the update schedule haha I want to have enough time to finish the chapters, and I'll have a college workload on top of it!!) 
> 
> I promise it gets more interesting as it goes along lol
> 
> I LOVE comments and kudos!! I want to hear your opinions, and I reply to everyone!
> 
> hit me up on tumblr and twitter @ sovereignsugar


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